


you're not sincere, are you?

by immarcesibility



Series: maybe this time is different [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, Panic Attacks, Period-Typical Homophobia, Youtuber!Eric, tw: anxiety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-02 20:46:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13326180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immarcesibility/pseuds/immarcesibility
Summary: ON HIATUS UNTIL NOVEMBERAfter Eric goes back to Georgia, hockey season starts.Things... aren't as easy as Kent had thought.





	1. act as though it never happened

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens after "i think i was blind before i met you", so make sure you read that first!
> 
> I don't know how many chapters this will have, but I'll try to write as much as possible before school starts again.
> 
> Please mind the tags! I'll be updating them with every new chapter but I wouldn't want anyone to be triggered by this.
> 
> Expect a new chapter every Friday!
> 
> Enjoy <3

The horn blared and echoed in the rink, signaling the end of the game and making the crowd cheer.

 

Kent raised his arms and fell to his knees, a huge smile on his face even though he was still panting from the effort.

 

It hadn’t been an easy game at all; it had taken the Aces 10 exhausting OT minutes to score the winning goal against the Hurricanes. There had been countless checks, a few of which nearly escalated into fights. The Aces returned to their locker room bruised, exhausted, and elated. It was moments like this one that made Kent love hockey. Winning a game was just as rewarding as acing a final at school, only he got the chance to do it every few days.

 

He sat in his cubicle and looked around at his teammates, who were all talking and laughing, congratulating each other on the win. His phone buzzed to notify him that he had a new message. His smile widened even more when he saw it was Eric, congratulating him on his goal. In one of the many-hour-long text conversations that they’d had, Eric had confessed that he had never watched a hockey game. That had resulted in a lot of teasing from Kent, and Eric promising to at least watch the games that Kent was playing. Sometimes they FaceTimed while they both watched a game, Kent having to explain a rule every couple of seconds and laughing at Eric’s running commentary on the players’ silly movements, falls, and gross habits with their mouthguards.

 

Eric had left Las Vegas only a few weeks before, and they'd been talking non-stop ever since. Kent had wanted to book his plane tickets to Georgia right away, but then the practices had started, and the start of hockey season was upon him. Eric had been incredibly understanding, but they hadn't talked about that topic ever since. Kent wasn’t really sure what him and Eric were, if there even  _ was _ a “him and Eric”, though he knew he really enjoyed talking to him. Their conversations were definitely flirty, but what surprised Kent the most was how  _ easy _ they were. They never felt forced, even when they’d been talking for hours about nothing.

 

Although it was way too early to tell, Kent could really see himself being Eric’s boyfriend. He couldn’t say he hadn’t fantasized about that more than a couple times, picturing going on dates, walking while holding hands and kissing, kissing, kissing.

 

“Man, number 36 was  _ so _ gay. He was in front of the net and missed!”

 

The comment shattered Kent’s daydream.

 

It had come from Mark, the same guy that had been in the video with him, Eric and Jeff. He couldn’t believe how hypocritical that was. How could he act all nice to an openly gay man and then say things like that? Him using the word “gay” as an insult wasn’t the only problem, the tone of voice was what had hurt Kent the most.

 

Mark had practically spit the word out, as if he felt dirty just by saying it. He made “gay” sound like poison, like a weapon that would do nothing but ruin people’s lives by coming near them.

 

Kent didn’t look up, certain that if he did he wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation to punch Mark square in the jaw. He couldn’t do that, though, not without making his teammates suspicious of his sexuality. They all had heard the rumors about him and Jack, so getting angry about a homophobic comment would definitely confirm them. If they thought the word was inherently insulting, what would they say about  _ Kent _ ?

 

Suddenly, his relationship with Eric didn’t seem so easy.

 

The NHL was infamous for its homophobia, and that included the owners, managers, players and fans. If he ever came out he was bound to get hate from fans, more checks in games, and maybe even traded, if any other team would want to take him. For some reason, he doubted any would.

 

There was the possibility of just  _ not _ coming out, which had been his plan all along. Until he’d met Eric.

 

If they were going to last, Kent couldn’t be in the closet forever. He simply couldn’t do that to Eric, who had lost his family because he wanted to be out so badly, he wouldn’t let anything stop him. If they were going to last, Eric would want to be out.

 

If they were going to last, Kent would have to come out.

 

Loud laughter brought him back from his swirling thoughts. He put his phone down on the seat, only then realizing that his hands were shaking.

 

_ God, this affected me more than I expected. _

 

He struggled to get out of his jersey and pads, his breathing getting increasingly labored. When he dropped his clean shirt for the third time trying to put it on, he abruptly stood up and left the locker room, his teammates’ loud conversations slowly fading as he got farther away. Nobody seemed to notice that he had left.

 

He walked straight down a hallway, not really thinking about where he was going, until he couldn’t hear any noise at all. There, he pressed his back to the wall and sunk down. He pressed his forehead against his knees and closed his eyes, trying his best to get his breathing under control. He wished he’d remembered to take his phone with him to call Eric, though he wasn’t sure if he would have had the guts to show himself in such a vulnerable state.

 

Kent wasn’t having a panic attack, though. He  _ wasn’t _ . Panic attacks are what happen to people with  _ real _ problems that need medical help and deserve the attention and the worry from those around them. Kent didn’t have them, he didn’t need a doctor and he couldn’t bother Eric. Why would he call him, anyway? He was just a little bit nervous, probably overreacting. People talked like that in locker rooms all the time, it wasn’t any news to him.

 

His hands had found their way into his hair and were now pulling, pulling, pulling, to take his mind away from his nerves, trying to get back to reality.

 

“Get it together, Parse,” he growled lowly at himself, squeezing his eyes shut as he pulled harder at his hair and pain erupted on his scalp.

 

He didn’t know when he had begun rocking back and forth, making his back hit the wall repeatedly, but he forced himself to stop. He also forced his hands out of his hair and straightened his legs, staring straight ahead. If anyone had walked in on him before, they would have thought he was crazy and sent him to the team shrink.

 

Kent scoffed. He didn’t need a shrink. Who cared if his hands were still shaking, and if he felt as if his lungs were collapsing? It was only because he was nervous about the next game. He was fine.

 

He was fine.

 

He stood up and shook his hands out, willing them to stop shaking already. He squared his shoulders and tried to make his expression as neutral as possible, faking a confident smirk as an afterthought. He walked back down the hallway and into the locker room, where there were only a few guys left. They were still chirping each other and laughing loudly, taking up as much space as they could. They didn’t seem to notice him come in, nor that he’d been gone, and Kent unsuccessfully tried to suppress the bitter feeling that was forming in his chest.

 

He was still barely half dressed, so he hurried to put all his clothes on. He didn't want to have to spend another second inside that locker room. Throwing a “goodbye” over his shoulder, he grabbed his things and left as fast as he could without looking suspicious. He didn't slow down when he got to his car, nor when he started driving. He sped along the road all the way to his house, jumping out of the driver seat and jogging up the porch steps. He went to his bedroom and jumped on his bed, finally allowing himself to breathe.

 

If he wanted to keep his sexuality private, he couldn't freak out like that again. It was pure luck that none of his teammates had seen him so agitated and realized it was because of that comment. Next time that happened he would have to suck it up and pretend it didn't bother him, like all his teammates did. Just that they weren't pretending, it actually didn't bother them. It clearly didn't bother Mark; he'd had no problem saying it, so he obviously thought what he said was right. Kent had to be more careful.

 

No one could know.

 

 

* * *

 

The next day Kent had just got in his car to drive to practice when his phone rang. He connected it through his car's bluetooth system and answered without looking at the caller ID, pulling the car out of his driveway.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Kent, hun! Good morning!”

 

A smile immediately broke out on Kent's face. Hearing Eric's voice did that to him; it always made his day a little bit brighter.

 

“Good morning to you, too. How's everything?”

 

Eric launched into a story about a fight that happened in the comments of one of his videos, letting Kent know what he thought about the cake batter they were arguing about and the users' grammar. Apparently, it wasn't very good. Kent was smiling the whole time, occasionally laughing out loud and commenting to keep Eric talking. Sooner than he wanted, he arrived at the rink. He didn't want to cut their conversation short, so he switched back from hands-free to a regular call and left his car, Eric none-the-wiser on the other line.

 

“...Because what she was saying wasn't true! And you know I couldn't just  _ let her _ keep spreading misinformation on my videos, so I had to step in and tell her she was wrong.”

 

“Of course, how dare she say such things?” Kent chirped, pushing the front door open.

 

“Exactly!” Eric exclaimed, not seeming to catch Kent's teasing tone.

 

Eric kept talking as Kent walked down the hallway and into the locker room, where there was only Jeff. He was on the point of talking to Kent when he saw that he was talking on the phone.

 

“...So I think I have one less subscriber now, but I don't think I mind,” Eric finished. Kent could feel Jeff's eyes on his face, looking for God-knows-what there.

 

“Yeah, I think it's better off without her,” Kent replied.

 

They said their goodbyes and hung up, because Kent was such a creature of habit that Eric knew at exactly what time he got to the rink every practice day. Kent put his phone away and when he looked back up, Jeff had a knowing, smug look on his face. He didn't need to be prompted to say what was on his mind.

 

“So you weren't gonna tell me you had a girlfriend?”

 

Kent's jaw dropped.

 

“I- Uh- What?” He eloquently said.

 

“C'mon, Parse,” Jeff chuckled, “You were smiling at your phone like it hung the moon, you're too obvious. Honestly, I'm surprised nobody noticed before me.”

 

Kent still didn't know what to say, just staring at Jeff with eyes as wide as saucers.

 

“So what's her name?” Jeff wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at him.

 

Kent finally remembered how to speak. “No! I mean, I don't have a girlfriend, Swoops.”

 

“Yeah, right. You just don't want to tell me because you know I can steal her from you whenever I want.”

 

The locker room door opened behind Kent.

 

“Who is Swoops gonna steal form whom?”

 

Kent turned his head to see Mark and John walking into the room, deciding to stand there instead of going to their cubicles.

 

_ Damn athletes and their nosiness. Can't they just mind their own business? _

 

“I'm going to steal Kent's girlfriend, when I find out who she is.”

 

Mark and John started whooping and making suggestive comments, only managing to egg Jeff on and annoy Kent even more.

 

“Guys.  _ Guys. _ I don't have a girlfriend, seriously, stop it.”

 

That didn't stop them; they started calling out random names in hopes of getting it right- or annoying Kent enough to just tell them.

 

He gave up trying to make them back off, so he sat down and started getting changed for practice. Thankfully, his three teammates got bored and started talking about something else before more guys came into the room. Kent didn't speak again until he left, save for the few necessary things during practice. Jeff was eyeing him carefully throughout the duration of it, though if he saw something in Kent, he didn't comment on it.

 

Kent showered and left the rink, stopping at a grocery store before going back home. It was only when he was putting away the things he had bought that he realized how exhausted he was. He wasn't having trouble sleeping, so that was clearly not the problem. For the first time in his life, he knew that the thing that tired him was hockey. He still loved the sport - he was never as happy as he was on the ice, but being around his teammates was quickly making him become bitter about his job. Their constant casual homophobia forced him to be hyper aware of everything he said and did, afraid that they might figure out that he's...

 

What was he?

 

Not-straight?

 

He'd never felt the need to label himself, mostly because he hadn't really explored that side of him. Apart from his messy, toxic “relationship” with Jack many, many years before, he'd only been attracted to one other guy, and that was Eric. Any time he'd wanted to blow off some steam he would find some girl at a bar, someone who wouldn't remember his name and wouldn't mind when he didn't remember hers. He  _ did _ find girls hot, he'd just never found one that he would want to date. Kent knew that labels were the least relevant part of sexuality, though a part of him wanted to be able to fit in a box with a simple definition.

 

Still, no matter what way he chose to define himself, if that wasn't “heterosexual” then it was for certain that somebody on his team would have something to say about it. He was torn between wanting to stay in the closet forever and coming out right then and there, like ripping off a band-aid.

 

The mere thought of the backlash that he could get, were he to come out, made him shudder. He could imagine his teammates not wanting to work with him anymore, his team trading him, getting checked a lot more on the ice, and that didn’t even cover everything that would happen  _ outside _ hockey.

 

No, he wasn’t going to do it. He would wait until he retired, or at least until he was in a stable relationship. Maybe if he started dating a woman he could come out as bi - he guessed it would be much easier for the world to accept a bi man dating a woman than a gay man. He hoped things with Eric became official, though, and as far as Kent could tell, Eric was not a woman.

 

He was at a loss about what to do.

 

He walked over to his couch and sat down heavily, tugging at his hair. There was no way he’d be able to have a successful, mainly drama-free career while being out. He’d have to stay closeted until he retired, maybe even forever. So what if that made him unhappy? He’d have to suck it up.

 

Just like he’d always done.


	2. out of focus, out of ink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hockey season is hard. Eric gets worried. Too worried, in Kent's opinion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya!
> 
> Big warning for this chapter: there's very intense ableism regarding mental illnesses, symptoms of depression and just a lot of angry thoughts. If I missed any warnings let me know!!
> 
> Enjoy <3

“Hey sweetheart, is everything alright?”

 

The question made him stop. He was skyping with Eric, like they had begun to do at least once a week. Eric had stopped his own story right in the middle of a sentence to ask that, and honestly, Kent had no idea where it had come from.

 

“Yeah, I’m good,” he responded, a furrow settling in his brow, “Are  _ you _ alright?”

 

“Yeah! It’s just- You seem sort of down, I wanted to make sure nothing bad had happened.”

 

“Oh,” Kent eloquently answered. “Yeah, everything’s good.”

 

He hadn’t told Eric about the event during practice a couple of days ago, and he wasn’t planning on doing so. Why make him worry? There was nothing either of them could do to stop homophobia in hockey, so it was better if Kent kept that to himself. Plus, it hadn’t been  _ that _ big of a deal, he had almost forgotten about it already.

 

Almost.

 

“Well, I’m glad.” Eric smiled softly at him through the screen. “We can’t have you busying your brain now, can we? You gotta focus on your season.”

 

That was one of the things that Kent liked so much about Eric: he knew when Kent wanted him to drop a topic, and he never pressured him to keep talking. It was a nice change, because all his teammates did was push and push until he was annoyed enough to tell them what they wanted to know. If Eric knew him that well and trusted him to be truthful, then maybe Kent should tell him what happened.

 

He was torn.

 

If he told Eric the truth then Eric would feel bad, and maybe (hopefully not) he wouldn’t want to be involved with Kent anymore. What openly gay man would want to have to deal with an institution as homophobic as the NHL?

 

If he didn’t tell Eric, though, he was practically lying. Eric  _ trusted _ him, he couldn’t betray his trust like that. If he  _ did _ want to keep talking to Kent knowing how shitty the NHL was, then Kent had to build the relationship with truths, not lies.

 

Yeah, alright, he should tell Eric.

 

In Georgia, in a small apartment with a nice kitchen, Eric was still babbling about all the recipes he was trying out. He couldn’t sense Kent’s inner turmoil, thankfully. He was peaceful.

 

And yes, Kent  _ was _ going to tell Eric.

 

Just not now.

 

* * *

 

The days started to blur together.

 

Practices came and went, some where the team was quiet, some happy, some furious. They played a lot of games, won some, lost some. It wasn’t their best season yet, but it wasn’t their worst either. Some of the hockey commentators were speculating whether or not they had a shot at the Stanley Cup, many feeling inclined to say that they didn’t. 

 

The thing was, the team’s chemistry was off, and it was definitely showing. Kent couldn’t bring himself to talk and joke with people who had either made horrible comments, laughed at them, or simply said nothing about them. And it just so happened that that was his whole team. Kent was being unprofessional, and he had to get his shit together if he didn’t want their season to end so early. Or worse, if he didn’t want to lose his job.

 

The next few practices, Kent tried to be more involved.

 

He laughed at jokes, told some of his own, chirped some teammates when they made mistakes on the ice instead of being angry, and joined conversations once practice was over. He still didn’t feel right; he felt a pressure in his brain that didn’t seem to want to go away, but at least his team didn’t know that. As long as he kept his feelings to himself and did well on the ice, everything would be okay.

 

The only problem was that his days off were also blurring together. The edges between night and day melted and twisted like bubblegum. Kent couldn’t tell if the light coming from his bedroom window was dawn or twilight.

 

Some days stretched for what seemed like years; he spent the entire day feeling restless and jumping from one activity to the next after a few minutes. Others went by far too quickly; it took him hours to get up and finish every little task, so he didn’t feel like he had enough time to do everything he needed.

 

He still texted with Eric every day, but their texts were more spaced out and their Skype calls were becoming less and less frequent. He felt guilty every time Eric tried to start a conversation with him and he gave one-word answers. He just couldn’t find it in him to keep the conversation going. He didn’t want Eric to be discouraged from talking to him, though he knew that if he kept this up, that’s exactly what would happen.

 

He decided to text Eric to let him know how he was feeling. He probably wouldn’t be as upset with Kent if he knew what was going on, right?

 

**To: Eric ♡**

Hey

 

**To: Eric ♡**

Sorry i haven’t talked much recently

 

**To: Eric ♡**

Everything’s been a bit overwhelming, it’s hard to talk to people sometimes

 

Kent slumped on the couch, heaving a deep sigh. He ran his hand through his hair for what was probably the hundredth time. It had never been easy for him to talk about what he was feeling, even via text. He always felt that if he was too honest with someone, they would take advantage of that – take advantage of  _ him _ .

 

Not even five minutes after sending the texts he was starting to regret doing so, but his phone received a reply from Eric.

 

**From: Eric ♡**

That’s alright hun

 

**From: Eric ♡**

Thanks for telling me! I was getting kinda worried ♡♡

 

Kent smiled, his chest feeling a bit lighter. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about Eric losing his interest in him, now that he knew what was happening. He was glad to have told him. It hadn’t been easy at all -hell, he wrote and deleted the messages a dozen times-, but it had definitely been worth it.

 

What he hadn’t expected, though, was for a second message to come through.

 

**From: Eric ♡**

Would you consider seeing someone to talk to? It looks like you’re having a rough time

 

Kent stopped.

 

He read the message over and over. “Someone to talk to” meant the same thing every time.

 

_ He wants me to see a shrink. _

 

Why would he have to see a shrink? Only people with big problems had to pay someone to sort their shit for them. No. Kent wouldn’t. He could get over his problems himself. He didn’t even  _ have _ problems to begin with. He was just stressed because of the season, but that happened to everyone. People didn’t go to therapy for work-related stress, right? That just sounded like a waste of money.

 

He huffed, dropping his phone on the sofa and standing up. He wouldn’t even bother responding to Eric’s message. Eric was practically implying that Kent was crazy, wanting him to go to a crazy people doctor.

 

_ This is what always happens when I’m honest with someone. Everyone thinks I’m fucking crazy. _

 

He stormed to his bedroom. He pushed the door with too much force, probably making a dent on the wall. He changed into workout clothes, his thoughts running around his head and turning his frustration into anger and into rage.

 

_ How  _ **_dare_ ** _ he tell me to get help? Who does he think he is? He doesn’t even know me and he acts like he has all the answers in the world. _

 

Kent left his apartment, slamming every door on the way out, and started running.

 

With every hit of a foot against the pavement his emotions grew larger and larger, occupying his every sense and forbidding him from thinking about anything else than what Eric had said. 

 

“Someone to talk to”, like he was a child again and his parents were getting a divorce. Like he wasn’t able to control himself. Like he couldn’t understand himself on his own. Like he was too unstable to leave unsupervised.

 

He started running faster.

 

_ Does he think I’m sick? _

 

Faster.

 

_ He doesn’t want me. _

 

Faster.

 

_ He’s just like Jack. _

 

He fell to his knees, not even noticing where he was, and sobbed.

 

His body shook as he cried. He was lightheaded, as if he were drunk. His ears buzzed so much that he couldn’t hear anything around him. He pressed his forehead to the floor, attempting to ground himself.

 

This couldn’t be happening again. He couldn’t get himself in another mess like he had when he was 17. Did he somehow attract that kind of people? Could it be that  _ he _ was the problem?

 

A small rational thought crossed his mind. He could talk to Eric. He could tell him that he wasn’t crazy, that he didn’t need a shrink, that he couldn’t suggest things like that.

 

_ Yeah, _ his breathing began to slow,  _ maybe that would work. Eric cares about me, right? If he cares, he’ll understand. He won’t do it again. We’ll go back to where we were and nothing will have changed. _

 

Kent stayed kneeling on the sidewalk with his forehead on the ground for a while as he waited for his cries to subside and his head to clear. Once he felt he was calm enough to walk again, he stood to his feet, wiped his eyes, turned around and walked back home.

 

It had been sort of a stupid thing to do -he didn’t know if anyone had seen him, recognized him and taken a picture-, but he felt better now. More grounded.

 

He knew exactly what he was going to do. Everything would be alright.

 

_ This won’t be Jack all over again. It can’t be. _

 


	3. close my eyes and feel the crash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kent talks to Eric about the text.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya!
> 
> Major warnings for this chapter!  
> Firstly, Kent has very very bad opinions about therapy and people who need therapy. I want to say that what he says isn't right, if you need help it's totally alright to go to therapy. There's no shame in getting help!  
> This chapter also goes into Kent and Jack's "relationship". I consider it to have been toxic but not abusive, so that's how I'm writing it. However, if you consider it abusive, there's a bit of victim blaming here.
> 
> Let me know if I missed any warnings, stay safe!
> 
> Chapter title from Super Rich Kids by Frank Ocean
> 
> Enjoy <3

Kent stepped out of his bathroom freshly out of the shower to hear a ringtone, alerting him that Eric was calling him on Skype.

 

He sat at his breakfast table where his laptop was, answering the call and smiling. Seeing Eric’s face did that to him, he couldn’t help but smile every time. Rosy cheeks dusted with freckles, blonde hair that looked soft like velvet, and those big brown eyes that Kent had more than once compared to chocolate. Eric was simply stunning.

 

“Hey, sweetheart. How’s everything?” Eric asked.

 

They launched into an easy conversation, mainly catching up on their lives. Eric’s hands worked bread batter absentmindedly as they spoke, the confidence in his actions showing how talented he was at baking. On the other side of the screen, however, Kent wasn’t feeling very at ease. Only a day had passed since Eric’s message, and Kent hadn’t brought it up yet. He’d decided to give himself a bit of time to clear his head and figure out how to say what he needed to say without hurting or offending Eric. They weren’t  _ officially _ a couple, but Kent was so infatuated with the man that he wanted to avoid arguing with him. Just the thought of Eric crying for something Kent had said made anxiety bubble up in his chest.

 

Eric had to leave for a minute to get something out of the oven, and Kent used that time to go over what he had to say in his brain. It would be simple. Easy. Harmless. He’d just tell Eric that he didn’t have to worry, that he wasn’t sick, and Eric shouldn’t suggest shrinks to him because that was a shitty thing to do.

 

Simple. Easy. Harmless.

 

“You have no idea how good this smells!” Eric exclaimed as he got back in front of his laptop.

 

“Y’all athletes keep bothering me to make healthy desserts, but the unhealthy ones taste  _ so _ much better, really.”

 

Kent chuckled, then took a deep breath. Suddenly, the little speech he had planned appeared to have escaped his brain.

 

_ Simple. Easy. Harmless. _

 

Eric seemed to notice that he was struggling to find his words, because he waited patiently for Kent to begin. His eyes widened and his mouth pressed into a thin line; signs that he was listening.

 

“Um- Eric, you sent me a text yesterday,” Kent began, unsure. “It sort of upset me, to be honest,” he said simply.

 

Eric’s eyes widened impossibly more, concern clouding his features.

 

“Oh, Kent, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize. I never meant to upset you.” He spoke quickly, as if willing Kent to believe him. His expression then turned confused. “Which text was it, though?”

 

“The one where you told me to pay someone to talk to them,” Kent responded.

 

He didn’t feel nervous anymore. He started casually fiddling with his phone as he spoke.

 

“Because I appreciate that you might be worried but you don’t need to, you know? I’m not sick. And I also don’t need to pay someone if I want to have some human interaction, I have friends.”

 

A few seconds passed with no sound from his computer, and Kent looked up to see if the call had dropped. He saw Eric just sitting there, a confused expression on his face. That expression then turned to sadness, and settled on anger.

 

“Well that’s uncalled for, Kent.”

 

Eric’s voice surprised him. 

 

What was usually a sweet tone, one that could make people smile even in their worst moments, was now cold and dry. It held no excitement, no sweetness, no melody.

 

Kent was in  _ deep _ shit.

 

“Why is it uncalled for? I mean it, Eric, I’m not some sick bastard that needs to be locked up in a padded room. I’m normal.” Kent chuckled. Eric had to see that he was right. Why would he need to hire a shrink? It was simply ridiculous. 

 

“No, Kent. You can’t say things like that.” Eric’s hard voice interrupted his laughter.

 

Now it was Kent’s turn to be confused.

 

“Things like what? That I’m normal?”

 

He couldn’t really mean that, could he?

 

“Yes, Kent!” Eric exploded. “People with mental illnesses are normal. They aren’t  _ sick bastards _ that need to be locked up. And not only mentally ill people see therapists!”

 

His face was contorted in pure rage, cheeks flushed and brows furrowed.

 

“There’s absolutely  _ nothing _ wrong with needing therapy, Kent. I thought you of all people would know that,” Eric finished.

 

He ended the call, giving Kent no time to argue and leaving him stunned.

 

Kent hurriedly called Eric back, but he didn’t answer. He tried again and again, growing more desperate each time. What had he done wrong? What did Eric mean by “you of all people”? He didn’t see what had made him so angry. Had he been insensitive? Maybe Eric went to therapy, and he’d just insulted him. God, he’d basically called Eric a sick bastard.

 

_ Way to go, Parse. _

 

Finally, on his fifth call, Eric answered.

 

“I’m not in the mood for talking now, Kent,” he said as soon as he appeared on the screen. He moved to disconnect the call once again.

 

“Wait!” Kent exclaimed.

 

Eric’s arm stopped mid-air, which Kent took as a sign to continue.

 

“I don’t understand why you’re mad,” he said.

 

Eric’s face started twisting in anger again.

 

“But I want to understand!” Kent continued. “That’s why I called you again, I honestly don’t know what made you angry.”

 

Eric sighed, and a pitiful expression appeared on his face. Kent didn’t like that one bit. He didn’t need pity from anyone. He’d had enough of that to last him a lifetime.

 

“Sweetheart, therapy isn’t something that only mentally ill people do.”

 

“But why would a sane person go to therapy? There’s no point!”

 

“A therapist isn’t a doctor, Kent.” Somehow Eric managed to not sound condescending when he said that. His voice sounded patient and careful, like he really wanted Kent to take in what he was saying and understand it. He didn’t, though—weren’t therapists  _ supposed _ to be doctors?

 

“A therapist is just a person that’s removed from your life, so by talking to them you… you organize your ideas, let’s say. They help you figure out how you’re feeling, why you behave a certain way and why some things bother you even when they seem silly. Sometimes they give you tips on how to deal with things, if you feel like you need that.”

 

Kent stayed silent for a few moments, going over the words in his head. It  _ did _ make sense now that non-sick people went to therapy, though he still didn’t know why Eric had suggested it to him. Kent, of all people. He had a great career, he had friends -even if they didn’t understand his humor and didn’t have much in common except for hockey-, and the problems he’d had with his family had been solved when he stopped seeing them. He was fine. He was  _ good _ . He was happy.

 

Was he?

 

“Tell me what you’re thinking, hun. It looks like your brain is fighting itself,” Eric chuckled lightly. Apparently Kent had been quiet for longer than he’d thought.

 

“I just don’t get why you’d tell  _ me _ to see a therapist,” Kent started, looking at Eric’s concerned face on the screen. “I mean, I’m fine, I don’t need help.”

 

“Oh, darling,” Eric sighed. He left a tea towel on the counter in front of him and rested his weight on his forearms. “You’re looking real stressed. I want to help you, but I don’t want to intrude in your life.  _ That’s _ why I suggested it to you. I think it’ll be good for ya.”

 

Kent hummed. He was uncertain. What Eric had said made sense, though he wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of it. Also, Eric’s last words during their argument were resonating in his brain.

 

_ I thought you of all people would know that. _

 

“Eric?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Why did you say that I should know this?” Kent started fiddling with some lint from his shirt, suddenly feeling shy.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Right before you hung up,” he explained, “You said that I of all people should know this. Why?”

 

Eric’s face got even more serious than it had been. Kent’s nervousness came back.

 

“I was readin’ up on hockey players the other day, and I stumbled upon a news article about what happened to Jack Zimmermann.”

 

Kent flinched.

 

He never wanted to hear that man’s name again. Their relationship -or whatever the hell that had been- hadn’t been good at all. They’d hurt each other to the point that not even apologizing would make it better. Finding Jack unconscious on his bathroom floor hadn’t been the best thing to happen to him, either.

 

“I also found out some rumors about y’all,” Eric continued.

 

Kent closed his eyes. He couldn’t bear to see Eric talking about someone who had hurt him so much.

 

“Now, I don’t know just how close y’all were, but I’m sure that what happened affected you in some way. Even if he was just your friend. People need therapy so they don’t ever reach that point, Kent. That’s why I said what I said.”

 

Jack and him had been close.  _ Very _ close, just like the rumors had said. The only problem had been that apparently Jack hadn’t thought the same. He hadn’t felt the same. When the rumors had started to come up in sports magazines and during interviews, Jack had immediately closed off. He’d become quiet, moody, even more brooding than usual. He’d been aggressive, screaming at Kent for every missed pass and failed shot during practice. After games it only got worse, blaming him for their team’s losses and discrediting him when they won.

 

He hadn’t been the only one, of course. Kent had screamed right back at him; he hadn’t let him forget a single mistake he’d made. He’d made sure that Jack knew how bad he was playing, how slowly he was improving. He’d repeatedly told him that he’d never be like his father. While Jack had been moody, though, Kent had been reckless. He’d started going out practically every night, no matter how early practice was the next day. He’d danced with dozens of random girls and slept with a handful of them, secretly hoping that Jack would get jealous and ask him to stop, to notice him, to love him.

 

That had never happened, though.

 

With his partying, Kent had failed to see that Jack was taking much more medicine than what he should have been. He didn’t realize just how much Jack was taking until he found him lying on his bathroom floor.

 

They had never had another conversation since then. They’d exchanged words when they’d played against each other, yes, but the topic had always been hockey. They had never talked about their relationship -or whatever that had been-, Jack’s overdose, or anything that was  _ actually _ important to talk about.

 

Kent had brushed off all of Jack’s attempts at talking, sneering at him and insulting him, making him back away. In reality, Kent had known that he wouldn’t have been able to handle that conversation without breaking down and begging Jack to love him. He hadn’t wanted Jack to see him being so vulnerable, so  _ weak _ . So, he had pushed him away. Every time that happened, he would only need a couple of hours to overthink the situation and drive himself mad before he went crawling back to Jack, insisting that they talk. Jack always refused, angry at Kent for the things he’d said before.

 

It had become a vicious circle, and it had taken Jack’s overdose -and him not wanting to see Kent after it- for it to stop. 

 

Kent rested his elbows on the table and pressed the heels of his hands onto his eyes. He felt the dampness of a single tear that he hadn’t managed to control.

 

Thinking back at that time of his life was incredibly painful, as if the whole universe was pressing against his chest to stop him from breathing. During that period his mood had been the lowest of his entire life, even if he’d acted like he was on top of the world to stop anyone noticing. It was useless to pretend that he wasn’t still affected by it all—Eric probably knew now, anyway. He’d hidden his suffering long enough. Too long, maybe. It was time he told someone. He just hoped Eric wouldn’t betray his trust after this.

 

“Kent, honey, can you hear me?” he heard Eric’s voice ask.

 

He nodded without lifting his head from his hands, now too embarrassed to show his face. He didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of Eric, the same way he hadn’t wanted to be vulnerable in front of Jack.

 

He didn’t know if that was a bad sign or a good sign.

 

“I guess y’all were more than friends, then?”

 

Kent removed his hands from his face but didn’t look up, hiding his face even more. He breathed deeply.

 

_ You can do this, Kent. You can talk to him. You can trust him. _

 

“That was the problem,” he said.

 

“What do you mean?” Eric asked, confused.

 

Kent raised his head.

 

“To me we were more than friends, but to  _ Jack _ … I’m not even sure he ever considered me to be a friend, honestly.”

 

Eric didn’t answer. He looked like he couldn’t find the right words. Kent had already started talking, so he might as well tell him everything, right?

 

“He was my everything.” He spoke quietly, as if speaking any louder would physically hurt him.

 

“I guess I focused too much of my life around one single person -which is bad by itself-, but I somehow chose the most unstable person I’ve ever met. That… didn’t end up too well, let’s say.”

 

He paused for a couple of seconds, breathing deeply. As much as it hurt to think and talk about this, it also left him with a sense of freedom that he hadn’t felt in years.

 

“We weren’t good for each other,” Kent chuckled lightly, “At  _ all _ , we were the worst pair to ever exist, I think. But we also worked well together, in some strange twisted way. We destroyed each other so much that our rage drove us to be better.”

 

Eric looked like he was about to cry.

 

“It… took me awhile to realize that we didn’t work,” Kent continued. He didn’t want to stop talking; it felt  _ so  _ good to share this with someone. “It took me way too long, actually. A couple of years of being bitter and angry and just plain  _ sad _ . I can’t say that I’m totally over it now, either. It still hurts when I think about him.”

 

He sighed. His brows furrowed when he caught sight of Eric, halfway across the country, silently crying because of him. If someone was upset enough to cry over something that had happened to Kent, then maybe it was more serious than he’d thought.

 

“Maybe I  _ should  _ go see a therapist, huh?” he tried to joke, but it came out sad.

 

Eric nodded, wiping his tears with his shirt sleeve.

 

“Yeah,” he sniffled, “I really think you should.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um
> 
> I'm sorry
> 
> I've been trying to rely less on dialogue and more on the character's actions, facial expressions and thoughts. If you have any feedback on that make sure to leave it in the comments because I have no idea what I'm doing lol
> 
> Hang tight! Kent's still got a way to go before he's alright *devil emoji*


	4. see if i can cope without an ounce of pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kent follows Eric's advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya!
> 
> No warnings for this one, finally!
> 
> Enjoy <3

Kent exhaled, feeling as if someone had freed him from restraints and he was finally allowed to breathe. His therapist sat in front of him, silently considering the load of information that Kent had thrown at her in half an hour of non-stop word vomit. Just like when he’d talked to Eric, once he’d begun his story he hadn’t been able to stop. It felt good to get everything out once again, even if the woman’s silence made him incredibly nervous. Apparently, it wasn’t as easy a story to process as Kent had thought.

 

“So,” Dr. Davis started after a few seconds, “Could it be that your history with Jack is the reason why you doubt Eric’s intentions all the time?”

 

Kent’s heart stopped beating.

 

“I- What do you mean by that?” he stuttered.

 

“Well, you were in a non-official relationship with someone you idolized, who sometimes told you things you should do to improve your performance,” she spoke slowly, hesitantly, as if waiting for Kent to stop her or insult her for what she was implying. “Isn’t that exactly what’s happening now?”

 

“I don’t idolize Eric.”

 

“You said you had watched every one of his YouTube videos before meeting him. You also were the one who  _ planned _ that meeting.”

 

Yeah, Kent could admit that she had a point.

 

“I still don’t think it’s the same situation, though.” He ran his hand through his hair for the millionth time since he’d sat down. Saying everything that was bothering him out loud wasn’t as easy as people made it seem. “I was seventeen when I was with Jack. I was a teenager living without my parents and playing hockey that would determine if I got into the NHL or not. There was a lot of pressure put on me to perform and behave and be a role model. My whole future was at stake and so was Jack’s, it’s no wonder we took our frustration out on each other. That’s normal.”

 

Dr. Davis hummed. She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward a bit. It was like she was trying to look right into Kent’s brain through his forehead.

 

“Don’t you have the same pressures now?”

 

Kent cocked his head to the side and frowned, considering her words.

 

“There’s a spotlight on you, Kent. You have pressure from your team to perform, you have pressure from the media to behave and be a role model. The things you do now will determine your legacy. You might be older now, but what I think is that your brain is recognizing the pattern. Couldn’t that be why you constantly doubt Eric and yourself?”

 

Kent inhaled sharply.

 

“Oh, God. Yeah, I think that’s why.”

 

He expected the doctor to look smug, ready to say “I told you so”, so he was surprised to see that she had a gentle smile on her face. She looked genuinely happy that Kent had figured this out. It was different than what he was used to. It felt sort of nice.

 

The session didn’t last much longer after that. The doctor probably realized that Kent’s mind was swirling with too much stuff to talk about other topics, so she scheduled another session with him for the next week.

 

Kent left with a weird feeling inside his chest.

 

On one hand he felt free, relieved of some of the pain that he’d been storing up for years by refusing to acknowledge it. On the other hand he felt dread weighing him back down, because he knew what he would have to do next.

 

He couldn’t control the spotlight on him from the media, nor could he control the pressure that his team put on him. The only thing he could control in the situation was Eric and his “relationship”.

 

He had to know where they stood. He couldn’t go on without being certain of what Eric felt for him. He knew that  _ he _ wanted them to be official—he wanted the late night text conversations and the early morning Skype calls, he wanted the funny stories and the angry rants, the teasing and joking and flirting and  _ Eric _ . He wanted to know if Eric wanted the same thing. He wanted to know that without having to ask him.

 

He knew that if they stayed on this “more than friends” stage for much longer, he would start getting anxious and lashing out at Eric, just like it had happened with Jack. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting Eric, of seeing him cry again knowing that he had been the one to cause it. He would just have to talk to him—lay all the cards on the table, tell him how he felt and hope that Eric felt the same way. He couldn’t tell if the shiver that ran through his body was due to excitement or fear.

 

\--

 

Kent was pacing.

 

He walked from his bed to his dresser where his phone lay, turned around and walked back to his bed. He did this over and over, switching from running his hands through his hair, linking them behind his neck and straightening out his clothes. The phone was the only light in his bedroom, his text conversation with Eric on the screen. The last text he’d sent seemed to shine brighter than the rest, nearly blinding him.

 

**To: Eric ♡**

_ Hey! I need to talk to you about something. Skype me when you’re free? _

 

Kent had sent that message 10 minutes before, and had been pacing ever since. By that point there was probably a track worn down on his carpet because of his pacing, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was so nervous that he had showered and put on a nice shirt. This was an important conversation, he couldn’t have it while looking like a slob, right?

 

Right.

 

Kent jumped when his phone chimed, alerting him that Eric had finally replied.

 

**From: Eric ♡**

_ Sure, hun! Is everything okay?? _

 

He picked his phone up to answer Eric’s question but he didn’t have time to do so, because he heard his Skype ringtone coming from the kitchen where he’d left his laptop. He sprinted and answered the call, probably ruining his painstakingly-styled hair in the process. When Eric appeared on the screen he was frowning.

 

“Why’re you panting like that? Did I call at a bad time?”

 

“No!” Kent’s voice came out so loud that he winced. “No, I was just- I was in the other room.”

 

The frown disappeared from Eric’s face and Kent pretended to be surprised when it made him feel lighter.

 

“Okay.” He paused. “Why did you want me to call?”

 

“Um. I-” Kent cut himself off. 

 

Even with all of his over-thinking, he hadn’t really thought this through. He wasn’t sure if he should just come out and ask Eric to be his boyfriend or if he should explain his train of thought. He doubted Eric would judge him—he hadn’t after learning about his history with Jack. Nerves were still present inside his chest, though, like a steaming pot about to boil over. He cursed himself eternally for not having prepared a speech. He could have written flashcards or something to help, but now it was too late. He took a deep breath and trusted his gut.

 

“I really need to know how you feel about me. I don’t care if you just want me to be your friend but I honestly can’t handle an unlabeled relationship at the moment.”

 

The words rushed out of him like air out of a balloon and his heart was going at a million miles an hour when he finished. He kept his eyes glued to his computer screen, not wanting to miss Eric’s reaction. The man in question sat frozen for a moment, before blushing a deep, deep red that was visible even through the laptop’s shitty webcam. He stuttered a few times, blushing impossibly brighter and burying his face in his hands. Kent couldn’t stop the infatuated smile that appeared on his face at the sight. He heard Eric speak, but it was muffled into his hands.

 

“What did you say?” he asked. Even he could hear the smile in his tone.

 

Eric lowered his hands and Kent was sad to see the blush had subsided.

 

“I like you,” Eric said. “I want a labeled relationship too.”

 

Kent’s smile widened. “Okay,” he answered eloquently.

 

Eric huffed. “Unbelievable. You make a boy confess his feelings and all you’ve got to say is ‘okay’?” He clicked his tongue in mock disappointment, but Kent could see a smile in his face matching Kent’s own. “You’re impossible, Kent parson.”

 

“Does that mean you’ll be my boyfriend?” Kent asked. Behind his mocking tone there was sincere hope.

 

The baker giggled. “Yes. That means I’ll be your boyfriend.”

 

Kent fist-bumped the air in celebration, and couldn’t bring himself to care when Eric -his  _ boyfriend _ \- made fun of him for it.

 

They kept talking as they usually would until Kent had to leave for his afternoon practice at the rink, when they said their goodbyes. Although they had talked about the same topics as they always did -Eric’s channel, hockey, and pets-, there was a different feel to the conversation. Kent fell like they were closer, like putting an official label to their relationship had made their connection so much deeper than before. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much while they were talking, though the smile remained on his face while he drove to the rink and all the way through practice.

 

Some of his teammates looked weirded out by his good mood, while others chirped him mercilessly. Not even the countless allusions to his nonexistent girlfriend could sour his mood. The men interrogated him tirelessly while they changed in the locker room, phrasing the questions a million different ways to try and pry some information from him. Kent held his ground, though, his smile only widening when some comments reminded him of Eric.

 

Kent was on top of the world. Even though he’d never admitted it to himself, he’d always wanted a relationship. He liked the idea of having someone to rely on, someone that knew him as well as he knew himself and still stayed with him. The thought of one day coming home to Eric laying on his - _ their _ \- couch sent shivers down his spine. It was way too soon to be having those thoughts, but Kent simply didn’t care. He had spent most of his teenage life jumping between random hookups and meaningful hookups -though those only held meaning for Kent-, too busy with hockey to pursue anything else. His teenage years had passed but he still had never been successful in finding someone to share his life with, even if it wasn’t forever. The girls he’d dated had all been lured by his fame and looks, only to be discouraged very early on when they saw just how intense his life was. None of those “relationships” had lasted over a week. With Eric it was different; the man already knew how Kent’s life worked and wasn’t intimidated by it. They had talked as friends for so long that they had really gotten to know each other.

 

Kent was hopeful that they would last, and he would do everything he could to make sure it happened. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy; they were both public figures  _ and _ it would be a long-distance relationship. He was willing to do the impossible if it meant they would work out.

 

Coming out had crossed his mind, knowing that Eric wouldn’t want to be thrown back in the closet as Kent’s “friend” whenever they saw each other again. It definitely wasn’t easy to think about. Being the first player in the NHL to be in a public relationship with a man was going to be a challenge with the league’s -and fans’- blatant homophobia. They would get through it together, though. He would wait a few months to see how their relationship went, and he’d worry about it when the time was right.

 

For now, Kent just wanted to enjoy having a boyfriend. 

 

**To: Eric ♡:**

_ Miss you already. Maybe I can go see you soon ;) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are looking up! Stay tuned for more fluffy fluff next Friday.
> 
> BTW I have like 13 followers on tumblr so it would be great if y'all followed me @hockeybaker <3 <3


	5. rolling tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out, labels can really affect a person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the long wait! This chapter didn't want to come easily, so I had to give myself some more time.
> 
> Warnings for a bit of overthinking, nothing intense.
> 
> Chapter title from Ready To Run by One Direction.
> 
> Enjoy!!

The first few days after becoming Eric’s official boyfriend made Kent a whole new person. He was happier, more relaxed, he offered to appear in PR events and overall became the WAGs’ favorite guy. The games were getting increasingly stressful as they neared the middle of the season, but somehow it all faded away once Kent was back home with Eric on the other side of the screen. He didn’t beat himself up after practices anymore; obsessing over every single detail that he could improve, he did his best and allowed mistakes to happen.  
  


He suddenly remembered why he’d wanted to play hockey in the first place, even without knowing that he had forgotten in the first place. Suddenly hockey was fun again, suddenly his passion was back, suddenly it wasn’t about being the best overall but about being _Kent_ , accepting his mistakes and embracing his skills.  
  


It baffled him that something as simple as a label could affect him so much that his entire outlook on his career would change, but Dr. Davis seemed to think it made sense. In their last session she’d mentioned a need for stability and validation or some other things that Kent hadn’t really paid much attention to, but the evidence was there. Being with Eric simply made him a better player and a better person.  
  


Every day he found himself wishing he could jump through his phone screen and into Eric’s house, just to see him and hold him like he’d done in Eric’s hotel room a mere few weeks before. He longed to see Eric smiling and blushing, to hear him explaining his most recent recipe in that adorable accent of his. He wanted to meet Elijah, Eric’s best friend, who he’d heard so many stories about.  
  


He stepped into the locker room along with all his teammates, heading straight for his cubbie and beginning to take off his sweaty gear. He was towelling his face dry when Coach Gravenor waltzed in, a stack of papers in hand.  
  


“Guys!”  
  


His voice rang out in the locker room, quickly quieting all the chatter. He passed the stack of papers to Mark, who was closest to him, who took one and passed the rest along.  
  


“These are the dates for the next few games. I guess you’ve all heard that the Pepsi Arena in Colorado had some issues, so the game against the Avs is postponed while they sort that out. Anita is emailing you the same schedule as we speak, but I know some of you are allergic to your inboxes, _Troy_.” He sent a meaningful look at Swoops, who just laughed and shrugged.  
  


Kent received his schedule and stopped breathing.  
  


They had a string of away games ending in Nashville, followed by three days of rest before a home game against the Kings.  
  


Nashville was in Tennessee. Tennessee wasn’t too far away from Georgia. Georgia had Eric.  
  


Coach started going over the teams they were going up against, and Kent couldn’t help the smile that blossomed on his face when he went over the Nashville Predators.  
  


“Yo, Parse, why are you so happy to play the Preds?” laughed Nejc Scheinberg -Scheinsy for short-.  
  


“Oh, does your girlfriend live in Nashville, Parser?” Swoops asked suggestively, nudging Kent with his elbow.  
  


Kent laughed, a bit embarrassed to be put on the spot.  
  


“Something like that, yeah,” he said bashfully.  
  


The room was immediately filled with loud whoops and lewd comments, making Kent’s cheeks heat up as some teammates clapped his shoulder and nudged him. They started asking for deets, not believing Kent when he said there were none to give.  
  


“Seriously, guys. It’s really new, there are no deets.” Swoops huffed in disappointment. “I’m not one to kiss and tell, either,” Kent added, which awarded him even louder suggestive noises and a couple of shoves.  
  


Kent laughed and ran a hand through his hair, amused by his team’s antics.  
  


Coach Gravenor eventually managed to calm the men down after complaining about their childish behavior. He went over the home games they were going to play after the roadie, and after just a few minutes he was gone. Players began filing out until the only ones left were Kent -who was messing with the annoying cowlick on the back of his head- and Swoops.  
  


Kent watched through the mirror as Swoops approached him and rested his elbow on Kent’s shoulder, earning himself a dirty look.  
  


“Bro, you said you didn’t have a girlfriend. When did that change?” His voice sounded teasing, though Kent could hear a bit of curiosity underlying.  
  


“It didn’t change. I don’t have a girlfriend.”  
  


Jeff looked hurt. He took a step away from Kent, so Kent stopped messing with his hair and turned to face him.  
  


“Honestly, Parse, you know you can tell me shit. I won’t tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about.”  
  


“It’s true, though. I don’t have a girlfriend.”  
  


“Then what,” Jeff’s expression was starting to turn angry, “are you gonna visit some girl you barely know? You know that’s how press nightmares start, Parse.”  
  


“No! No, I-” Kent stopped himself.  
  


Could he tell Swoops about Eric? There were so many things that could go wrong if he did. He could be disgusted by Kent, and that would make practices -especially the locker room- super uncomfortable for both of them. He could tell everyone on the team, so Mark would find out and he would _definitely_ not be supportive of Kent. He could slip up during practice and out Kent accidentally. Hell, he could out Kent to the press and make his life a million times harder.  
  


But it could also go well. Jeff could be supportive, and Kent would have someone to talk to apart from his therapist. He could invite Jeff to join one of their Skype calls so he could meet Eric. He could finally grow closer to a teammate, and become true friends with him. He could be completely honest.  
  


“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he started slowly, “But I _do_ have a-” he hesitated. He didn’t know if he could do it. He was too scared.  
  


“A what?” Jeff asked, frustrated. “A fuckbuddy? A friend with benefits? C’mon, man. You know better than that by now.”  
  


He was talking about all those girls Kent had hooked up with during his first years in the NHL, who had caused him way too many scandals.  
  


“A boyfriend!” he blurted out. “I have a boyfriend. Not a girlfriend.”  
  


Jeff looked like he’d stopped breathing.  
  


“Oh.” he said. He didn’t looked grossed out. He looked… scared?  
  


“Um. Is he a teammate?”  
  


Kent couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle.  
  


“God, no. Not even close. You know him, though.”  
  


Jeff’s eyebrows jumped and a smirk formed on his face.  
  


“Oh, do I? Now you have to tell me, I won’t let you leave me in the dark like this,” he shoved Kent’s shoulder teasingly.  
  


Kent switched his weight from one leg to the other. His nerves hadn’t gone away even after knowing that Jeff had no problem with his sexuality. It made him antsy, he kept expecting his friend to lash out at any moment.  
  


“Remember Eric? The baker who we filmed a video with, a few months ago,” he clarified when Jeff’s expression showed no sign of recognition.  
  


“Wait. You’re dating _him_?”  
  


“Um. Yes?”  
  


_This is it. Now he’s going to be disgusted and insult me and then out me to the team. Management will probably find out. They’ll fire me, I know they will. Who wants a queer in their team anyway? What am I going to do if I don’t have hockey? Fuck, I should have gone to college._   
  


“Dude. Nice.”  
  


Jeff’s simple comment startled him. He had been overthinking so much that he’d spiraled down into the worst-case scenario, so getting that small show of approval made him confused.  
  


“Uh, what?”  
  


“He’s a real catch, bro!” Jeff exclaimed. He didn’t sound like he was making fun of Kent. He sounded… genuine. “He’s a nice guy, bakes _sick_ shit, and he’s kind of a looker, too,” Swoops finished.  
  


Kent felt his cheeks heat up as he thought of Eric. He _was_ a looker.  
  


“I didn’t have you as one to admit a guy’s hotness, Mr. Troy,” Kent chirped to distract from his frantically beating heart. He turned back towards the mirror to keep trying to fix the damn cowlick that wouldn’t just _stay in its place._  
  


“Well, if a guy’s hot, who am I to deny it?” Jeff said as he made a beeline for his cubbie and grabbed his duffel bag. “Let’s go get coffee. You can tell me more about your boy on the way there.”  
  


* * *

 

Kent had rambled on and on about Eric while on Swoops’ car, telling him everything from their time in Vegas to the non-stop texting. He’d had a blush high on his cheeks the whole time. Swoops seemed very entertained by Kent, not used to seeing him so eager to talk about the same topic for so long. Kent had to stop talking once they reached the coffee shop, scared that someone would recognize him and hear him.  
  


Back at home, he texted Eric.  
  


**To: Eric ♡**

_I came out to Swoops!!!_   
  


Eric knew Swoops from when they’d recorded a video for the Aces, and from the little things Kent had told him here and there. He knew Jeff was the Ace Kent was closest to, even though they weren’t technically close friends—Kent didn’t confide in him other than what he’d done earlier.  
  


Eric’s reply came a few minutes later.  
  


**From: Eric ♡**

_Oh sweetheart I’m so proud! I’m glad you could talk to him :)_   
  


**From: Eric ♡**

_Maybe we could include him in a Skype call? I’d love to meet one of your friends!_   
  


Huh. Eric had had the same idea as him. It _was_ a great idea, though. It would certainly make Kent more used to Jeff knowing about his relationship. Also, Jeff was sure to love all the new chirping material he’d get from it.  
  


Kent promised Eric to invite Jeff, and they kept texting while Eric tried a new recipe for his next video. With the season well underway, Kent hadn’t had enough free time to follow any more of Eric’s recipes, which he didn’t feel very good about. He loved recreating his boyfriend’s creations, it made him feel like a little piece of Eric was with him in his kitchen.  
  


With a start, Kent realized that he hadn’t told Eric about the Predators game that he had coming up. He sent a long text explaining everything—from his roadie schedule to his days off to his ideas for things they could do together. The reply he got wasn’t what he had been expecting.  
  


**From: Eric ♡**

_Are you sure you want to risk being seen around me?_   
  


Kent frowned. What was he trying to say? Did he think Kent was embarrassed of him, for some reason? It made no sense.  
  


**To: Eric ♡**

_What do you mean?_   
  


**From: Eric ♡**

_I mean that because of the video I did for your team, people know me now. I’m publicly out, people will put two and two together._   
  


Oh. That was something Kent hadn’t thought about. Just because he had felt comfortable enough to come out to one of his teammates, it didn’t mean that he was okay with coming out to the entire hockey world. There had already been rumors surrounding his sexuality because of Jack—if people started speculating again they were sure to find more proof.  
  


Kent gave himself a few minutes to think it through, knowing Eric wouldn’t push him.  
  


He thought about texting Eric back, but decided against it. Texting didn’t seem enough for a topic as serious as this. So, he dialled his number and called.  
  


“Hey, sweet pea.” Eric spoke quietly, nervously. Kent could already imagine Eric’s brain jumping to all the wrong conclusions, so he went straight for what he had to say.  
  


“I still want to go see you.”  
  


“Yeah? Are you sure?”  
  


“I am,” he took a deep breath, “I’m not ready to come out right now, but I was thinking of telling my team’s management when it’s closer to the date, just so they know in case something bad happens. Not that anything bad will happen! Just as safety, you know?”  
  


“Yeah,” Eric replied. Kent’s rambling seemed to have calmed him down slightly. “What are we gonna do when we’re in public, though? Someone is bound to notice you.”  
  


“We can go out and act like friends. People know you’re my friend.” At Eric’s confused sound, Kent continued, “Remember that picture I posted of you on Instagram, a few months ago?”  
  


“Oh, yeah! You’re right.” Kent could tell that Eric was smiling.  
  


“This means we can do it, right? I can go visit you?”  
  


“Yes! So… see you soon?”  
  


“Yeah,” Kent replied while he ran a hand through his hair. He felt heat on his cheeks that told him that he was blushing. “I’ll see you soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading! Remember to leave a comment and tell me what you thought, it brightens my day <3
> 
> I'm on pillowfort now! Make sure to follow me there, I'm @/ericrbittle

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Remember to leave kudos and comments <3
> 
> Bug me on tumblr so I don't forget to write lol @/hockeybaker


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